


Sharing is Caring (Taako Doesn't Really Do That Well)

by illogicalArtifact



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anyways, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Trans Character, Trans Characters, Trans Male Character, Trans Taako (The Adventure Zone), and races are ambiguous but my brain refuses to not see the taacos without elf ears, because im trans and gay and kin with taako, but i also love all taako kins out there jsyk, i'll continue this if people like it at all, if people want me to continue it or whatever, lgbt focus, no magic or any of that junk, nonbinary magnus burnsides, so were just gonna ignore that whole aspect, tbh, thats not an element yet but it will be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-01-17 03:11:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12356247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illogicalArtifact/pseuds/illogicalArtifact
Summary: Taako and Lup move into an apartment in an act of queer freedom. Magnus Burnsides, their eclectic and kind neighbor, starts a cycle of sharing that Taako doesn't want to break.





	1. Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any specific things you'd like to discuss, feel free to message me on my tumblr at:  
> star--blaster.tumblr.com

Gold light filters down onto the pavement from the overhanging light above the rooftop door. The glow is warm, taking the bite out of the hazy fall night of the city, if only for this small pocket of time and space. Taako sits, carefully perched on the stone half-wall that served to separate the apartment rooftop from the plunge onto the streets below. He has one leg on both sides of the wall and, drenched in the orange of that single rooftop light, he seems like the absolute picture of casual beauty

His long blonde hair is sloppily gathered into loose braids that drip down over his chest. He wears a simple black t-shirt and grey cutoff shorts, which do nothing to shield him from the chill of fall or the roughness of the stone beneath his legs. Neatly manicured nails adorn slender fingers, careful not to get in the way of the cigarette that hangs delicately between them. The same deep maroon lipstick that stains the filter is painted meticulously on his lips, the finishing touch to a perfect face of makeup. This aesthetic both disgusts and delights Taako, and since he had moved out with his sister a few months ago he had immediately delved into this form of self-expression. 

Taako is disgusted, of course, with the societal ideas of gender, of self-presentation, of capitalism and all that bullshit. But there is something different about it this time. He is on his own with his sister, who is also transgender and therefor trustworthy. He isn’t being forced to perform femininely. It is something he can choose. On his own, his existence as a boy and his femininity can coexist. He considers this carefully, inspecting the nails of one hand while lifting the other to take a long drag from his cigarette. Slowly, he inhales, feeling the numbness of the menthol in his lungs and throat. It’s soothing, grounding and-

Without warning the door to the roof is flung open, the metal door knob slamming against the brick wall beside it. Taako jumps at the sudden noise, sending still-lit ash into his thigh. Letting out a hiss of pain, he quickly flicks the ash off his skin, launching the butt of his cigarette off the side of the building out of annoyance.

“Hey what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he complains, not actually entirely sure why he is offended at the use of a space he does not own. Sticking to his guns, he turns to face the disturbance.

In the doorway stands a person Taako is sure he has seen before. They are quite tall, maybe over six feet if Taako knew anything about math. Which he doesn’t. They stand in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, clearly startled by Taako’s presence.

“Shit, sorry, uh nobody is ever up here.” They say, sounding more perplexed than anything. Perched under their arm is a red folding chair, and dangling from that same hand is a tote bag that read “HOME IS WHERE YOUR DOG IS” in cursive font.

“Well I am, and you scared the bejesus out of me, my dude.” Taako replies, swinging his leg back onto the safe side of the wall, and pushing himself off so that he could stand. He takes a deep breath, reaching into his purse to pull out his carton of cigarettes. His hands shake from the cold but he doesn’t particularly care, drawing out a cigarette and lighting it.

They both stay silent for a minute, but the tall stranger shrugs and walks out into the brisk night air, letting the heavy metal door fall shut behind them with another loud crash. This time Taako doesn’t jump, but he must tense and hold himself still in order to avoid it. The night is quiet again aside from the noises the stranger makes as they set their bag down, unfolding the chair and tucking it into one of the corners of the roof near the door, opposite of where Taako had been sitting.

“You’re new here, right?”

Taako turns to look at them, and his lips pursed.

“Yeah. How’d you know?” he asks, and the stranger smiles warmly.

“I’ve lived here a long time. So has nearly everybody who stays here. Just nice to see a new face is all.” They say, still smiling as they close the distance between themself and Taako. They hold a hand out for him to shake, and Taako takes it daintily with his hand not occupied with smoking. He doesn’t enjoy the way he likes their smile or the feel of their warm calloused hands.

“You gonna be up here a while?” They ask, and Taako simply replies with a shrug. They take a breath and nod, more to themself than to Taako. They give a curt “wait here real quick,” before dashing back to the door and down into the apartments below, abandoning their bag and folding chair.

Well then, Taako thinks to himself bemusedly. He takes another drag of his cigarette and folds his free arm over his chest, the stranger’s warm hand having suddenly made him very aware of how cold he was. And before he knows it, he hears the doorknob creaking. This time the door swings open slowly and deliberately, the knob avoiding the wall behind it. In the door frame is the stranger again, carrying another red folding chair.

“If you plan on making it a habit of smoking up here, we might as well get acquainted. Wanna sit?” they ask as they carefully close the door behind themself, and this time it closes with only an annoying click. Much better than another crash or slam. Taako shrugs as he watches them set the folding chair up next to their own and they plop down, heavy and uncoordinated, into theirs. Taako stays standing but comes a bit closer. Maybe company is better than smoking alone, he considers, leaning to ash over the wall. The stranger doesn’t motion any further for him to sit down, so he doesn’t quite yet.

“My name’s Magnus by the way.” They say, leaning down to grab their tote bag. They rummage through it nonchalantly and still Taako watches.

“Taako.” He replies, and he finally deems it safe enough to sit. They don’t seem that scary, which is strange for their size and physicality.

“Nice to meet you, Taako.” They say cheerily, finally pulling a notebook from the tote bag, followed by a black plastic water bottle. Setting the bottle down against the concrete below their chair, they open the book and flip through it almost secretively. Taako eyes Magnus up and down, trying to sum up what they might be like from what he can see.

They’re tall, but sitting down they seem harmless, which is strange to Taako. They curl themselves into the chair, posture open and casual. In comparison with Taako’s upright and alert posture, they looked comfortable and unafraid. Their body looks strong, but still soft, adding to their size. Despite presenting masculine, with their short cropped auburn hair and beard, cargo jacket over a grey sweater, and plain denim jeans over tennis shoes, something about them still broadcasts that softness. Taako doesn’t want to think about it too long, and instead nosily turns his eyes to their book.

“So, Taako, do you mind if I ask you a, uh… personal question?” Magnus asks, hesitance thick in their voice as they carefully flip through he pages of their book. Taako tenses up a bit, and Magnus seems to notice, glancing at him before glancing back at their book. “You can say no, or just decline to answer either way of course. You’re not, like, obligated to answer or anything.” They add quickly, shaking their head almost as if for emphasis. 

Warily, Taako eyes them up and down. He’s had plenty of nosy questions. Being visibly queer gets you some of the most unpleasant ones, he admits to himself. And so he shrugs, already prepared for the worst.

“Again, don’t answer this if you feel uncomfortable. But, uh… what should I call you?” they ask, avoiding Taako’s gaze. Taako blinks, and gives a flat “what?”

“It’s just I’ve been told, you know, that it’s a good thing to ask for pronouns. I wasn’t trying to assume anything, and you don’t have to answer or anything-“ and now Magnus is rambling as Taako pieces it together. He obviously knows that you should ask for people’s pronouns in queer spaces, he just hadn’t expected it out of someone he doesn’t know and that he assumed most likely knew jack shit about trans people.

“He, him.” He interjects, eager to save Magnus from rambling any further. Magnus is visibly relieved, taking a quick breath. 

“Okay, cool. Same.” Magnus says, and Taako nods in solidarity and makes a note to switch pronouns. They both sit silent for another moment. It’s not awkward, but rather sort of pleasant. The sound of crickets and the cars below reverberates against the stone alleyways below the building, and Taako leans back.

His face scrunches slightly in thought, and he feels a mix of things in his chest. He’s pleased someone asked, a little confused about meeting a total stranger who was at least somewhat educated on queer stuff, conflicted about questioning it. Most of all he fights down the weird mix of happiness over the validation that he’s not used to.

“Sorry if that was like, weird.” Magnus interrupts his thoughts, and Taako turns to see that he’s now moving a pencil against the pages of his book. Perhaps he’s sketching, Taako muses. “I’m not really used to being around other LBGT people or whatever. So solidarity and stuff.” He adds, glancing up at Taako and giving him another warm smile. It’s genuine and his eyes scrunch up as he beams for that short second, then turns back to his book. 

“It’s cool, you’re just one of the very few people I’ve met who even asked. Caught me off guard is all.” Taako replies, trying to be nonchalant. He stifles a smile and instead drops into a cool and casual expression. He shoves the feelings of excitement down even harder than the smile, crossing his legs and readjusting his position in the chair. Someone else who’s queer lives in the same apartment building as me, Taako celebrates silently. Thank fuck. 

“More people ought to, but you know how it goes. They just decide whatever they want.” Magnus commentates, taking a break from drawing to pluck the bottle from the ground and opening it to take a quick drink. Taako goes to take a drag from his cigarette, but notices it’s gone out from neglect. Instead of bothering with it, he flicks it over the wall like the last and folds his arms over his chest. He gives a tiny shiver, and Magnus watches him put his feet up on the edge of his own chair, pulling his knees to his chest.

“Cold?” he asks, and he’s leaning forward in his chair before Taako answers, shrugging his cargo jacket off of his shoulders. Taako just accepts it as Magnus tosses the jacket at him, doesn’t bother disputing the offer at all and instead pulls it over his shoulders.

“I’m wearing a sweater anyways, so I’ll be good.” Magnus excuses despite Taako’s lack of refusal. It isn’t sarcastic or in any way joking Taako notices, but sounds like a genuine attempt at reassurance. Taako nods, and they sit in peaceful silence for a moment more. 

Then Taako startles a little bit as his phone vibrates in his purse.

He puts his legs down so he can put his purse on his lap and rummage through it properly, like any other person with a purse full of mostly useless junk. It takes him a second, but he finally fishes out his phone. Opening it, he finds a text from his sister, Lup.

\- Lulu (Today. 10:45 p.m.) -  
-Get your ass inside, I made brownies and I’m gonna throw up if I eat them all again.-

Taako huffs a small laugh to himself.

“I have to run, that’s my sister.” He announces, tossing his phone back into his purse with absolutely no consideration for finding it again. He moves to slide the jacket back off his shoulders, but Magnus smiles and shakes his head, holding a palm out towards Taako in a halting motion.

“It’s cool. Keep the jacket. Someone who dresses in only summer clothes probably needs one.” Magnus teases with a lopsided grin. Taako gasps in faux offense, placing a hand on his chest.

“I’ll have you know that I, a known gay, have an aesthetic to adhere to.” He chides, feeling a bit more comfortable joking about it knowing that Magnus understood. Flipping a braid over his shoulder, he snatches his purse up and struts away towards the door. Before he reaches it, he turns back to Magnus. “But I will be keeping this jacket for the time being, thank you. ”

He pauses again, looking Magnus up and down for dramatic effect. Maybe for flirtation too, but he doesn’t think about it.

“I’m in apartment 421. Come by and get it back whenever.” He announces, wrenching the door open and leaving before he gets an answer.


	2. Recipe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pankcakes? Sign Magnus up.

Flip, press, set. Flip, press, set. Pancakes are easy to make, something that only require a few basic ingredients and some even more simple instructions. You just add the flour, the sugar, milk, all that jazz. You stir until mixed and pour. Then flip, press, and set the pan back down. Flip, press, set.

Taako is used to making pancakes. He has never been keen on breakfast food in general, but they always seem to be the easiest to make with what he has. That, and he likes the idea that he could add anything he wants to the pancakes and they’d be something different each time. Something he wishes he could project onto himself.

So, he adds fruit to a few, allowing the apples to brown and caramelize against the hot buttered pan. He hated apples, they were boring. But he knows Lup likes them, and they’re a cheap fruit to buy. So he makes them for her. To the other batch he adds chocolate, allowing the chips to melt and soak into the rising dough of the cakes. This is much more his style, and less like real food. Food is better when you can pretend it’s a desert, Taako mused to himself.

He is just finishing the second set. when he hears a knock at the door. It’s a set of short, quick taps, sounding almost unsure. Taako doesn’t know who it was, but it doesn’t particularly matter to him either way. They could wait.

“Lulu, can you get that? I’m cooking.” He shouts over his shoulder, then pauses for a response. Hearing nothing in return, he huffs, rolling his eyes, and turns the stove off with delicate but steady fingers. Quickly wiping his hands off on a dish towel, he rounds the corner of the kitchen into the living room and towards the front door. Bracing his hand against the wall by the door, he pries it open with the other hand. The wood is old and heavy, the hinges giving a loud groan as he tugs.

“If you’re not some kid here to give me my order of thin mints, I don’t wanna talk.” He grumbles half-jokingly. When he sees Magnus standing in the hall, Taako is taken aback.

Magnus is wearing a tight tank top and running shorts, and his hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat. He’s been running, Taako can tell. In the light of the hallway, Taako can get an actually good look at him.

He was right the night they had met, Taako decides, ogling Magnus’s height and muscles, only barely attempting to be discreet. He is certainly a little older than Taako, though probably only by a few years. He is soft around the middle, and his hair and beard are unkempt. Taako is pissed at how well he pulls off the whole dad-aesthetic.

“Uh, hi!” is the response Magnus manages, giving an almost awkward wave. His genuine grin makes up for it. “You said to come by some time.” He adds as an afterthought, gesturing vaguely towards Taako. “For my jacket, I mean!”

“Aight, cool.” Taako approves, and backs away from the door. He should feel self-conscious of the fact that he’s only in boxers and a long-sleeve shirt, he thinks, but he can’t bring himself to care much. Instead, he simply motions Magnus to follow him. Not bothering to see if he does or not, he turns and walks away, letting the door fall for Magnus to either catch or not. By the dull thud it sounds like he didn’t quite make it in time.

Heading to the right of the front door, Taako enters the hall and pulls open the closet there. He has to give it a pretty sharp tug, the old settling wood of the apartment building making it more difficult. But then it pops open, revealing nothing other than a plain coat closet. Inside there is only the one plain green cargo jacket, which Taako yanks off the hanger and tosses onto his shoulder before slamming the door shut again and making his way back towards the living room.

Magnus stands by the front door patiently, and Taako notes how he nearly takes up the whole door frame. He’s built like a fucking brick house, Taako muses, but doesn’t allow himself to think further than that. He reaches to tug the jacket from his shoulder, but hesitates.

This guy is not only the first person he has met at this apartment building, he’s also queer. That’s a double score, Taako thinks. He can’t let this encounter go to waste. 

“You wanna carb up before you get back out there, big boy?” Taako asks, meant to sound teasing by the flat inflection of his voice, but it’s still a serious offer. Instead of waiting for Magnus to agree, he turns back towards the kitchen and traipses off, jacket and all.

“Might as well, it smells great in here. I was kind of hoping you’d ask.” Magnus teases back, following lazily behind Taako.

“Do you want fruit ones or chocolate ones. I don’t make just normal ones cause I don’t fuck with that boring shit.” Taako calls out, already pulling a plate from the overhead cabinet by the stove. Magnus ducks into the kitchen and Taako glances at him, watching him pull a chair out from the table and plop down into it.

“Both? I’ll take both, I guess.” Magnus responds, questioningly at first then more sure.

“On the same plate? Gross.” Taako commentates, but he doesn’t mean it. Instead of teasing further, he picks up both kinds of pancake, pinching them carefully between his finger and thumb so not to dig his manicured nails into them, and lets them flop down onto a plate. Grabbing the syrup and pulling a fork from a drawer, Taako bridges the small gap between counter and table and sets it all down by Magnus. He grabs a plate for himself, loading it with the sweeter option and grabbing another fork.

“Holy fuck…” Magnus groans as Taako sits down, his mouth already full of gooey pancake. He quickly swallows before shoveling another bite into his mouth, giving another hum and leaning back in his seat as he chews.

“You should, like, be a chef or something. This shit is so good.” He sighs after gulping down his second bite. 

“They’re not hard to make, just flour and stuff.” Taako says before taking a bite of his own food.

“I just have no idea how to cook. I’ve been living on my own for a while now and it’s been pretty much nothing but takeout and stuff.” Magnus says, practically hoovering the next bite into his mouth.

“Dude, that’s kinda sucky, no offense.” Taako hums, resting his cheek in his hand. “Cooking is fun and also takeout is expensive. I’ll give you some recipes to try out if you wanna. They’re super easy.” He leans back in his chair and grabs a notepad off the counter and a pen. Carefully, copies down a few recipes he has memorized, and in the meantime Magnus finishes off the last of his plate. He taps the pen against the page in thought for a moment, then quickly scrawls his phone number at the bottom of the page.

“Here, just like take this and try something out. If you get super lost just call me or text me or something.” he says as he folds the page up and tosses it into Magnus’s lap. 

“I’m probably gonna burn the building down, but it’s worth a shot.” Magnus replies with a small laugh, then gives a contented sigh. He lays his palm lazily over his stomach, full but still thinking about how good the pancakes were. Taako matches his posture, leaning back in his chair, putting his feet out in front of him and crossing his legs at the ankle.

“Yo, who’s this nerd?” calls out a groggy voice from the kitchen doorway. Not even bothering to turn and look, Taako waves in the general direction.

“Magnus, this is my sister Lup. Lulu, this is Magnus.” He chimes, gesturing vaguely. Magnus moves to get up and shake her hand, opening his mouth to say hello himself, but Lup interrupts him.

“Oh shit, is this the hot dude you met on the roof the other day? The one you told me about?” she calls out with no reservation. Taako groans and launches himself out of his seat, moving to usher Magnus out of the kitchen as fast as possible.

“What, what, you’re not gonna let me get to know the sexy mystery man?” she only teases further, clearly reveling in the horror and embarrassment on Taako’s face.

“Don’t listen to my sister, she’s an idiot.” He groans and pushes Magnus towards the front door. Magnus laughs, and Taako stops pushing him to open the door. He doesn’t look at Magnus’s face while he’s still laughing, instead choosing to glower in the general direction of his sister. Damnit, if looks could kill, then Lup would be directly lasered by his death glare.

“She seems fun.” Magnus says in amusement, already moving through the front door.

“Yeah, well, she’s not when you have to be related to her!” he shouted towards the kitchen for her to hear. In response, Lup only let out a loud raspberry. Taako rolls his eyes and scoffs incredulously, earning him another snicker from Magnus.

“Well,” Taako starts, eager to change the subject so that his sister couldn’t keep dunking on him in front of a new acquaintance, but he can’t think of any follow up thoughts.

“Thanks for the food.” Magnus offers to fill the awkward pause. “And the recipes too. I’ll try one out but I will say that I am holding you personally responsible for any disaster that may happen.” He teases and Taako laughs.

Magnus catches himself staring at Taako as he gave the small laugh. Taako’s round nose scrunches up and his lips draw up into a crooked smile, revealing slightly buck teeth. He’s not ashamed to admit that it’s cute.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll sign the wavers and all that shit. You’ll have to tell me how it goes.” Taako responds, patting Magnus on the shoulder before backing into his apartment once more.

“Smell ya later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aight some people wanted more so here. I'll keep making more so long as people want me to. This is just more build up but yeah.


	3. Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another rooftop bonding moment, who else loves those?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aasdifuhsfd sorry for not updating. I'm a college student and I am dying. I recently moved in with my boyfriend (who I am incredibly gay for) and got a cat baby for us to raise together. Also finals are happening and my German prof is killing me with oral exams. Byeeee

Magnus had always worked when sleep wouldn’t take him. Lying and staring at the ceiling, he thinks about anything and everything that he can other than the past. Thinking never did him any good, he thought with a smile to himself. And for a moment, he thinks me smells lavender and tea tree shampoo still clinging to his pillow. He has washed it hundreds of times, but every night he lays in bed and he still smells that same familiar scent. Julia.

He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

Instead, he peels back the heavy duvet, swings his legs over the side of the bed and sits. For a moment, he stays still and his hands feel too heavy against his lap. They itch to move, to hold someone like they once did. But they can’t now. So instead, Magnus stands and moves to his desk.

It’s a heavy wooden desk, sturdy and elegant. He had carved that very table with his own tools and hands, and he remembers that it was meant to be in a house in the countryside. Not some dingy apartment building. He carefully slides one of the drawers open.

Inside he sees familiar tools, bound leather books and pencils and paints. He can’t carve like he used to be able to, but he can still hold something in his hands and draw out things that he wishes he could carve, and perhaps things that he just wants to put down on paper. So, he grabs a book and a couple of pencils, tosses them into his bag and grabs the plain folding chair from his desk. Setting them by the door, he makes his way back to his kitchen and finds his usual plastic bottle, filling it with whiskey before grabbing his things and heading out.

Magnus was always thankful that he at least lived on the top floor of his apartment complex. It may not have the same view as a cabin, but there were still stars in the city. He makes his way to the roof access door and hopes for a clear night.

Outside, the night is clear. He sets up his chair in his usual corner, tucked away out of view of any other building, and just sits. Leaning back, he rests his head against the wall guarding the edge of the roof and lets the cold stone ground him. It smells like rain and motor oil and the city almost oddly quiet on such a nice night.   
Finally, he leans back up and pulls his book from his bag, followed by the tin of pencils and his whiskey. He wasn’t always a drinker, but it made nights like this a little more manageable. Opening the bottle, he takes a deep drink and sets to work.

He loses track of himself, sketching whatever comes to mind. Moving from drafts of carvings he’d like to make one day, to general art pieces, he finds himself sketching people he’s seen. Then before long, there’s the familiar sound of the roof door creaking open, the yellow fluorescent light flickering at the motion and casting shadows across the concrete.

“Whatsup?” comes a familiar voice, and Magnus turns to find Taako. Thankfully this time he’s dressed almost weather-appropriately in a pair of fuzzy green pajama pants and a jacket over a crop top. Magnus smiles and waves, leaning back in his chair once more.

“The usual, just chilling on the rooftop.” Magnus replied casually, and he feels almost relieved to not be outside by himself. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Taako simply shrugs in response, making his way casually towards Magnus’s chair, his flip flops slapping against the ground. Magnus doesn’t push it further. Taako leans against the wall beside him, and gazes up at the stars. Magnus pretends not to watch as Taako’s loose hair flutters around his shoulders, or the way his jacket slips down to expose his upper arms.

“I dunno what you think, but sometimes these apartments seem like, super cursed.” Taako states plainly, and Magnus isn’t quite sure if it’s meant to be a joke or not. He turns the page of his sketchbook and starts on a new sketch.

“I dunno if you’ve noticed, but the building is super-duper old. Old as balls.” Taako continues, turning to face Magnus, and now he can clearly see the sly smile tugging Taako’s lips. “I think it’s probably haunted or some shit.”

“I dunno about that, Taako. I’ve lived here for five years and I haven’t heard a single ghost.” Magnus chides, raising an eyebrow in a comically questioning look. His hands move and the figure in his sketch has a mischievous grin with slightly buck teeth.

“No, dude, you can’t hear ghosts, or else the whole world would constantly be too loud. I don’t think you realize how many ghosts there probably are. I mean, there’s a shitton of dead people all over the place. Probably.” Taako continues, and Magnus teasingly holds his hand up in a halting motion.

“Hold up, I’m not drunk enough for this conversation.” He jokes as he picks his bottle up again and takes another drink. He feels warmer now, and he’s not sure if it’s from the whiskey or the company.

“Whoa whoa, you’re holding out on me, Mags. The rules on guests states you should share.” Taako teases, placing a hand on his bare hip. Magnus rolls his eyes and laughs.  
“Well we’re on the roof, you’re not my guest here.” He responds, but holds the bottle out anyways. Taako takes it and gives an overly dramatic “Thank you, my good sir.” Taako bends his head back and takes a long drink from the bottle. He grimaces as he pulls it away.

“Eugh, alcohol is absolutely disgusting.” He remarks, scoffing and capping the bottle once more before tossing it down onto Magnus’s lap. “Whiskey is also probably the worst. It’s such a dad drink.”

This thought stings Magnus, and he briefly thinks of his family, but he doesn’t object. Instead he nods and covers his face with a smile. This one doesn’t reach his eyes, and Taako sees it.

“Once you get used to it, it’s not so bad.” He states plainly, and Taako just nods. He doesn’t push it any further. Instead, he pushes himself up onto the ledge beside Magnus. Leaning back against the brick wall that leads down into the building, he lifts a leg over the side of the ledge and straddles the cold cement top. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, pulls one out of the carton with long, delicate nails, and lights it.

“Anyways, about those ghosts…” he says with a mischievous drawl as he lets the smoke roll out of his mouth. Magnus stops sketching and eyes Taako expectantly.  
“Well, like, if you’re haunted how do you know?” Taako asks, and it almost sounds earnest and genuinely interested, though his lopsided grin gives him away.  
“I dunno. Stuff gets moved around or thrown at you? Or maybe they make messes and try and talk to you about really cryptic stuff at like four in the morning.” Magnus poses.

“Nah, that’s all stuff my sister does and I’m pretty sure she’s not dead or something. Having a ghost twin would suck.”

Now Magnus is genuinely curious. What do ghosts even do? He leans down to pull his phone from his tote bag, unlocking it and googling “ghost hunting.” The first relevant article is from some sketchy conspiracy theory magazine titled “Top 10 Signs A Saucy Ghost is in Your Home This Very Instant; Gossiping about Getting those Ghouls.” How concise.

“I found something but honestly I’m not sure if it’s about ghost hunting or like… fucking a ghost. It’s really not clear” he announces, but clicks the article and begins scrolling.

“Now I’m the one who isn’t drunk enough for this conversation. Wanna toss me some of your nasty wheat juice?” Taako asks, holding his cigarette in one hand and holding the other out expectantly. Magnus passes it to him casually and their fingers touch. Just like when they first met, Magnus’s hands are warm. Taako doesn’t want to think about it, but he does. 

Taking another long drink from the bottle, Taako sighs. “Okay, hit me. What’s the prognosis, doc?”

“Okay, you got any unexplained noises?” Magnus asks, starting at the top of the list. Taako thought back to the other night when he’d accidentally left a mixer plugged in, which had turned itself on when it fell off a shelf above the counter and landed on the button. Not only had it made all kinds of noises that woke him up, but it covered the kitchen with dried up leftover dough crumbs. If you’re going to bake depression cookies, Taako thought, then what’s the point of cleaning up until your depression stops being fucky. He didn’t mention that part to Magnus, responding curtly instead.

“Oh yeah, all kinds of noises,” he said, face scrunched up in a faux quizzical look. “Like, I don’t even know where they all come from. So many, and none of them are created by me or any other tenants in the whole building.” Taako nodded gravely, and Magnus stifled a small smile.

“Okay, so what about doors or cabinets opening on their own?” Magnus asks.

“Not related to hardcore snackage?” Taako asked, pretending to be serious and raising an eyebrow.

“I dunno, Taako. Snackage may very well be important to the well-being of the ghost.” Magnus said with a worried drawl.

“Well shit, I don’t want my ghosts to be hungry.” Taako hummed, placing his fingers against his chin in deep, serious thought. “But then what to ghosts like to eat? Is it like Santa rules here? Is it cookies and gross lukewarm milk that’s been sitting there all night? Spaghetti? I gotta know, my man.”

“I don’t feel like there’s been enough empirical research into what foods ghosts like. I mean other cultures have some similar stuff but its different than what we think of as ghosts I guess…” Magnus rambles for a moment. There’s a pause where they both think, then Taako huffs.

“Well I guess we’re gonna have to research. It just means we’re gonna have to have a full on Ghost Adventures episode of our own, all up in my apartment.” Taako says, throwing his hands up in a mock shrug. Magnus laughs, but the idea doesn’t sound like the worst thing that could happen.

“Dude, if you wanted to invite me over for a sleepover, all you had to do is ask.” He teases, giving Taako a sly look. “Listen, I paint a mean nail.” he continues, and Taako snorts in amusement.

“I understand that’s a saying that you’re trying to use, but that was probably the worst list of verbs and nouns you could put in there.” Taako laughs, but shrugs. “And yeah whatever, I think we’re friends now or something, so you can come paint my nails. But only if we’re looking for ghosts too, that’s extremely important.”

“Oh, of course. It’s science. Or something like that anyways. Ghost science.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it's short, I'm suffering from the same thing I always do when i write fics. I wanna write the good stuffs and the build up is fun but its not the good stuffs. Maybe I'll write a one shot or something soon to make my brain shut up. Anyways have a nice night, love you.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, feel free to tell me what you liked! Everyone has been so kind so far, thank you for the support. I'm just a queer kid writing from my own experiences, so uhhhh. Have fun reading. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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